Sea fever
by
John Masefield
(1878-1967)
I must go down to the seas again,
to the lonely sea and the sky
and all I ask is a tall ship
and a star to steer her by;
and the wheel's kick and the wind's
song
and white sail's shaking,
and a grey mist on the sea's face,
and a grey dawn breaking.
I must go down to the seas again,
for the call of the running tide
is a wild call and a clear call
that may not be denied;
and all I ask is a windy day
with the white clouds flying,
and the flung spray and the blown
spume,
and the sea gulls crying.
I must go down to the seas again,
to the vagrant gypsy life,
to the gull's way and the whale's
way
where the wind's like a whetted
knife;
and all I ask is a merry yarn
from a laughing fellow-rover,
and quiet sleep and a sweet dream
when the long trick's over.